


Love is not a victory march

by Lysakruger



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysakruger/pseuds/Lysakruger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson has the hope, that his life would be back to normal - wife, child and a best friend who's the most adorable man in the world.<br/>But faith isn't good to John Watson and it has other plans for him and Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hello

Hello!

And welcome - you’re witnessing now the multiple loss of virginity *wink*

First - this is my first story on AO3 I publish - wohoo!

Second - It’s the first story I write in a language other than my own. I have written in German, in fact I’m about to end a 65k fic and I’m in the middle of one who’s got already 78k - and is far from ending. But as I said - own language, not english.

Third - my very,very, very first attempt in Slash. And Johnlock. Be prepared.

Forth - the first foray into Omegaverse. I love A/B/O stories. I really do. And if I could, I would write one in German - but the oh so typical words of this verse sound soo sooo soooo ridiculous in german, that I can’t do it. I just can’t. Seriously. No way!

Which leads us right here.  
So if you haven’t ran away after those first lines - thank you, you’re highly loved.  
Let’s see where this path leads us.

 

Additionally - this Omegaverse version might be slightly different from others.  
truth be told - Omegaverse is just a nice little backdoor to give our two loved heroes the chance to have a lot of intercourse and to have children with each other.  
I’m sorry to disappoint, but we’re not going to have a love child of John and Sherlock here.  
Nope, mpreg is just not happening.  
In this Version, it’s still the females who are able to give birth, Omega, Beta and Alpha.  
The differences between the second genders are more behavioural and intellectual.  
And of course we will have the typical bonding, knotting and sensing issues  
Couldn’t go without that fun. ;)

Starts after Season 3

Comment's and critique are highly adored.


	2. White and bright

Everything was good. If he kept telling himself this again and again it might become the truth.  
Everything went back to normal.   
He had a good running practice, his wife was pregnant, his best friend was alive and even safe for the moment, Magnussen was dead and Moriarty would soon be.  
Sherlock would take care of that.   
Like he always did.   
That great, daft prick would do some magic tricks with his mind, pull one or two stunts in dark alleyways and once you have blinked he would have solved the case.  
Like he always did.   
And John would be at his side, always there, always supporting the genius with everything he got, because he owned him, in so many ways and he wanted to be there for him.   
Everything was good.

 

A painful cry and the sudden pain in his left hand brought John back to reality.   
A very bright and white reality, mixed with the familiar smell of disinfectant and blood.   
He looked down at his hand, white where smaller fingers were clutching hard at it. Oh, yeah, Mary was in labour.

She would give birth to his child.   
The one and only reason she was still alive, still in his life, still his spouse.  
Without that child, he would have killed her the moment he knew of her betrayal, the second she’d admitted she shot Sherlock.   
He hated her for the attempt to take Sherlock away from him, again. He was disgusted that she had pretended to like him, even love him.   
She knew he had trust issues, of course she knew that, she had a profile check on him before. But it hadn’t mattered, she had her chance when he was down, lost because of Sherlock's death and she used it.   
And how she used it, that lying bitch! 

 

The next wave of pain hit her and brought him out of his inner rage.  
Everything would be fine.   
His child would soon be there.   
Small and innocent and pure. And he would defend it for the rest of his life with all his power.   
Never, never! would he allow Mary to corrupt this one good thing she’d done to him. Never!   
All will be good. Soon.

 

He looks down at her flushed, sweaty face and something deep inside him cheers.  
13 hours into labour and the fantastic, perfect assassin Mary Morstan is not different to any woman you’d meet on the street.   
She’s in pain and she’s miserable and she’s suffering and he enjoys every second of it.   
Now she isn’t lying, telling him things he likes to hear, pretending to love him, to have interest in him, playing a role.   
No, now she’s stripped to the core, raw and naked and just herself and he’s pretty sure that’s the only time he’ll ever see the true Mary Morstan.   
She’s done, exhausted and tired and all he does is hold her hand, because that’s what he is expected to do.   
That and the fact that he would never leave her alone with his child. Not even a second.

 

Her expression changes as she catches his icy stare, she guards herself a bit more, steels her mind for the rest that will come.   
The nurse orders her to push and so she pushes, teeth clenched, cries bitten back, oh she’s such a little fighter.  
Again, orders the nurse and Mary obeys, pushes and moans and pushes again and then, suddenly, a wail.  
A tiny, miserable, soft little sound and Johns heart speeds up.   
Everything is good.

 

The moment the nurse takes the baby away, he frees his hand from Mary’s grip, not allowing her more closeness and support, she doesn’t deserve it.   
He watches the examination of the little boy, the blood sampling and cleaning, the first nappie and the soft blanket he’s wrapped in.  
The nurse comes back, with a smile on her face, handing him the precious bundle of joy and bliss, nestled down into baby blue fabric.   
He looks at his son, tears stinging in his eyes, everything is perfect.

 

“Congratulations on your little Alpha boy, Dr. Watson.” the nurse says.

 

And Johns world shatters into millions of pieces.


	3. Revelations

It’s about one or two in the morning, maybe three, he doesn’t care.   
Why should he? Nobody’s waiting for him, telling him to sleep or eat or socialise.   
Nobody’s forcing him to be friendly or domestic or good to his transport.   
Nobody cares, because the only one who mattered, the only one who cared was John.   
And John is gone, forever now.  
Sherlock knew it since the wedding, since he deduced the pregnancy.  
He and John might have survived this marriage, they still could have worked and acted as friends, colleagues. But not with a baby involved.  
Not with John Watson, the prototype of family man and father, with his cozy jumpers and tea making habits, his smiles and tender cares.   
Sherlock knew that John would devote his life to this child, not to Mary though, but his kid would be the one that broke them apart.   
John with his sense of responsibility and decency would never leave a kid at home to follow a crazy detective, running of into the night.

So when his cell phone beeped this morning, he knew it was over. An overexcited John told him that his child was on it’s way and all Sherlock could think of was how much it hurt.  
So he did what he always had done - he worked.   
He distracted himself from all those feelings and emotions, useless ballast on his mind. He knew they were still there, lingering on the edges of his mind, waiting, patiently, they had all the time in the world. And once his traitorous body gave in, demanded rest and food and sleep, they would surface and rip him to the bone. Give it 3, 4 maximum 5 days and Sherlock Holmes would be a broken man without any hope again.  
So he had only one option - use his last days wisely, work, work, work…

He was so engulfed in his studies, that he missed the front door open and close, the heavy, unstable steps on the stair, the sound of a shoulder bumping into a wall halfway up the stairs.   
What he didn’t miss was the lousy attempt to insert a key in the lock of his door, the scratching and scrambling of unsteady fingers. There was only one other person that had a key to that flat and that realisation made him jump from his chair.

 

Sherlock opened the door to a broken looking John.  
Something was not right, something was terribly off. John swayed on his feet, his eyes half closed and he reeked of more than one sort of alcohol.

“Don’t!” John hissed whilst leaning against the doorframe for support   
“Fucking don’t deduce me like I’m one of our cases!”

Startled by the little jolt of his heart by the mention of “our cases” he could only state the obvious “You’re drunk.”

Johns response was a hard laugh, a tone that burned in his mind and teared at his soul, loaded with so much raw emotion, so much bitterness, he’d never heard from John. Soft smiling, tender caring, joy bringing John.   
He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew he needed this John back, more than anything else. John was here to get help, that was obvious and even if he had no clue what to do or say, it was his duty as a friend.  
So he opened the door wider, stepping aside to let his friend in.  
And John entered the flat, heading towards the couch, not his chair, and slumped down on the well used, familiar leather.   
Sherlock sat next to him, not sure what to say, just waiting. And finally, finally John sighed and turned and spoke.

“She had a boy.”

Well, the chances were 51.22% for a boy - not that much of a surprise after all, John should be thrilled, shouldn’t every father be thrilled to get a boy?  
He’d never taken John as a father who was crestfallen because he had no girl, the John he knew would love his child no matter what…

“An alpha boy.”

Sherlock’s mind came to halt, something was there, but he couldn’t get it. What was he missing?  
Alpha boy - John should be more than thrilled. A male Alpha was the prime of the Evolution, smart, strong, competitive, most likely to get into science or politics, admired by lots, envyd by most - something to wish for. There were schools for them, the best in the whole country, they got every advancement you could think of - that child was born with an advantage in life - why was he angry about that?

Something about his confusion must have been written on his face, John frowned heavily at him.

“Seriously Sherlock? You have deleted simple biology? Genetics? Are you kidding me?!”

“No I haven’t! But I don’t see the reason for your agitation.”

“Oh for fucks sake, Sherlock! An alpha boy! How on earth should I sire an alpha boy? Explain it to me, maybe then I’m enlightened!”

 

The sarcastic tone hit him, made him angry too.  
It was not his fault that John had a child, he was the one who had lost everything, John had his perfect little family and what ever was wrong with this child wasn’t his to blame!

“Really, John? Explain it? You should know how you made it, you’re practising intercourse for long enough now! And as a doctor you really should know how procreation works!”

“Oh fuck you, Sherlock, you don’t need to be so snotty about this, of course I know how babies are made, but the point is - I HAVEN’T MADE THIS ONE!”

“You… what?”

John sighed, energy already drained out of him. “I have no clue why you don’t know that, Sherlock, after living so long with me in this flat, but I can’t have sired an alpha boy - I’m a Beta.”

Utter shock hit him - John was a Beta, not an Alpha as he always thought. That explained so much of his behaviour, his personality, all those little edges that don’t quite fit into Omega or Alpha but were a mixture in between. John was Beta and Betas could only sire Betas. The child wasn’t his. Sherlock knew he shouldn’t feel that happy about the tragedy in John's life, but he was. Because now, John would never stay with Mary, he would come back to him and they could live together again and maybe, only maybe, later, very very very much later, when John was over this, Sherlock could try to show John that he could be enough for him for the rest of their lives.

“You really didn’t know it…” Johns murmur was filled with sheer disbelief.

“It never mattered what you are. Not to me.”


	4. Truth hurts sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> revealing the truth - bit by bit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait, but obviously I need to be in the mood ;) Hope you enjoy nonetheless.

John looked rather gobsmacked after this statement.  
“How could it not matter? You must have smelled it, Sherlock!Every time we were on a case, every time I handed you a cup of tea - you must have smelled that I’m not an Alpha.”

The slender man opposite John sighed and rose to his feet, walking stiffly into his bedroom. John could hear him open a drawer, the sliding sound was unmistakably. Sherlock came back with a little box in his hand. Wordless he tossed it at John. A quick glance inside revealed a nebuliser.  
Johns eyebrow rose questionly.

“Temporary, local anosmia.” was the answer for the unspoken question. “I’ve developed the spray for my cases. Can’t risk to loose my head over each possible fertile Omega in 200 metres reach. Biology is annoying, but I found a way to trick it. Over the time it came in handy for the rest of my life, too.” The nonchalant shrug that followed these words was so typical, that John exploded.  
“Are you honestly telling me, you aren’t able to smell anything because you find it more convenient? But I’ve seen you sniff on things, you can’t have blocked everything!”

“I beg you John… Do you really think I’m such a dilettante? Of course I haven’t blocked everything. You as a doctor should know that the pheromones of the second genders are only received on a small patch of receptors on the upper backside of the nose. I did a lot of research to find a substance that only affects those parts and not the rest. I’m using this for years now and I’m sure there are no side risks and despite that, if I want to and try hard, I can get a whiff of the second gender of the person I’m talking to, but I just don’t want to - simple as that.”

“So you never wanted to know what I am?” The simple thought made Johns head swim. Does that mean Sherlock didn’t care? Or that he judged him as unimportant as all the others? Maybe it was just not relevant for him if John was an Alpha or a Beta. Because he was only another stupid goldfish in the tank, a conductor of light for Sherlocks brightness, exchangeable...

“John!” Sherlock groaned “Just stop thinking this nonsense! It was never important because your second gender doesn’t define you for me. It’s not your second gender that brings me tea, annoys me to eat or shots Cabbies to save my life. That’s you, John. You and your personality and your second gender may be a part of it, but it’s not everything that makes you so special for me. I thought I had made myself clear at your ridiculous wedding - I love you because you are the best and the most kind and brave man I was ever allowed to call friend. I would be lost without you and as much as it hurts to see you so devastated, I’m cheering inside, because now we can continue our life as before without a kid or a wife between us and that fills me with infinite joy!”

John was staring at him now, his alcohol-clouded mind obviously overstrained with the sheer mass of information Sherlock had thrown at him.

“You… you are happy that my marriage is a farce and the only good thing that could have come out of it has backfired on me?!” Johns question was filled with anger, wrath and oh so much hurt.  
His friend looked at Sherlock like he was the enemy himself, stepping back with an unbelieving look in those so blue eyes. “You are happy that she wrecked me? Because now I can go back and be your little sidekick who throws in a snarky line and cleans after you’ve made a mess?!”

Now the anger was definitely taking over the pain. Johns clenched hands opened and closed in spasms, his eyes burning into Sherlock's who couldn’t think of a good response - or a response at all right now. Suddenly, Johns body tensed and with two long steps he reached Sherlock and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, forcing his back to collide with the nearest wall. “How long, Sherlock?” he hissed “How long have you known that this child isn’t mine?”  
Sherlock knew he shouldn’t feel like he did, but finally, after months, John touched him, invaded his private space, in anger and pain, but John, his John, he was so close and here and he would do anything to keep him where he belonged to - in Sherlocks life, at his side. “I haven’t until you told me.”  
“Don’t lie to me!” was the yelled reply “You always know such things!”  
Sherlock wrapped his long, lean fingers around Johns wrists and tried to pull his hands from his shirt. “John. I haven’t even known that you are a beta, how on earth should I have known what your child will be?” he asked as calm as he could, despite the turmoil in his heart.  
“But you always see everything. Every bit and little piece in my life. You always have! How could you not know that I’m a beta!”  
“As I said - it didn’t matter to me.” Sherlock sighed, they were going in circles right now, unsurprising given Johns state of intoxication.  
“Oh yeah, because we are all so miserably failing in comparison to you, no matter what we are!”  
“No. Because you’re the only one that ever mattered - despite what you are.”  
“Oh yeah, and what am I?”

The question had brought John closer, his body almost leaning on Sherlocks. He would have never allowed such intimacy in a sober state and maybe that was Sherlocks chance. He missed it once, at Johns stag night, drunken himself he had not realised that John had sent clear signals. But this time, it was different. He was sober and very aware of his own needs. And John… John was standing there in front of him, radiating heat and anger and passion, his pupils dilated, his breath accelerated and Sherlock suddenly realised that it must have been months for John to be this close to somebody else.  
His leg shuffled a bit forwards, between Johns tights and with a quick move of his hands he had turned John around and pinned him to the wall. Sherlock lowered his mouth to Johns ear.

“You want to know what you are? You’re ordinary, plain, simple. And yet so full of miracles and wonders. You’re the reason I’m still alive and you’re the reason I wanted to be dead after that dreadful marriage. Remember when Moriarty told me he wanted to burn my heart out of me? He was speaking of you. Because everybody knows, everybody always knew - except you John. You didn’t know and I didn’t tell you before I went on that rooftop and then it was too late because you had that woman at your side. I didn’t know what that child would be, because I never looked at her. I have only eyes for you John. Only you. Always you. Because I love you.”


End file.
